UC-NRLF 


COL.  CROCKETT'S 
CO-OPERATIVE  CHRISTMAS 


RUPERT    HUGHES 


GIFT   OF 
Miss    Alice    J.    Farno 


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3<£~X  .^X 


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LAST    NIGHT    I    ATE   A    HORRIBLE    MOCKERY   OF   A    CHRISTMAS    DINNER 
IN    A    DESERTED    RESTAURANT 


COPYRIGHT,   1906,  BY 

GEORGE  W.  JACOBS  &  COMPANY 

Published  September  1906 


Gift 


>•:    - 


ftftt 


All  rights  reserved 
Printed  in  U.S.A. 


Last  night  I  ate  a  horrible  mockery 
of  a  Christmas  dinner  in  a  de 
serted  restaurant.  .  .  .  Frontispiece 

As  blue  as  all  the  swear  words  ever 

swore     .....   Facing  page   14 

He  said  if  I  ever  come  near  again  he'd 

sic  the  dogs  on  me  .          .          .        "         "      18 
i] 


"  Only  one  thousand  plunks,"  says 
he  ..... 

James  J.  James,  Publicity  Expert 

Old  Miss  Samanthy  Clay  got  a  box 
of  cigars  meant  for  Judge  Ran 
dolph  ..... 


40 

"     48 

"     60 


F  all  the  strange  gather 
ings  that  have  dis 
tinguished  Madison 
Square  Garden,  the 
strangest  was  probably 
on  the  occasion,  last  Christmas,  when 
the  now  well-known  Colonel  D.  A. 
Crockett,  of  Waco,  rented  the  vast 
auditorium  for  one  thousand  dollars, 
and  threw  it  open  to  the  public.  As 
he  is  going  to  do  it  again  this  coming 
Christmas,  an  account  of  the  con-, 
in-,  and  re-ception  of  his  scheme 
may  interest  some  of  the  thousands 
who  find  themselves  every  Christmas 
in  the  Colonel's  plight.  My  plan  to 
describe  it  was  frustrated  by  the  re 
ceipt,  from  his  wife,  of  three  letters 


he  wrote  her.  It  seems  only  fair, 
then,  that  the  author  of  an  achieve 
ment  which  is  likely  to  become  an 
institution  should  be  allowed  to  be 
the  author  of  its  history.  I  shall, 
therefore,  content  myself  with  pub 
lishing  verbatim  two  of  the  Colonel's 
own  letters. 

RUPERT  HUGHES 


10 


LETTER 
ONE 


New  York,  N.  Y.,  Dec.  26,  1904. 
FRIEND  WIFE: 

The  miserablest  night  I  ever  spent 
in  all  my  born  days — the  solitariest, 
with  no  seconds — was  sure  this 
identical  Christmas  night  in  New 
York  City.  And  I've  been  some 
lonesome,  too,  in  my  time. 

I've  told  you  how,  as  a  boy,  I 
shipped  before  the  mast — the  wrong 
mast — and  how  the  old  tub  bumped 
a  reef  and  went  down  with  all  hands 
— and  feet — except  mine.  You  re 
member  me  telling  how  I  grabbed 
aholt  of  a  large  wooden  box  and 
floated  on  to  a  dry  spot.  It  knocked 
the  wind  out  of  my  stummick  con 
siderable,  but  I  hung  on  kind  of  un- 
13 


conscious  till  the  tide  went  out. 
When  I  come  to,  I  looked  round  to 
see  where  in  Sam  Hill  I  was  at,  and 
found  I  was  on  a  little  pinhead  of  an 
island  about  the  size  a  freckle  would 
be  on  the  moon.  All  around  was 
mostly  sky,  excepting  for  what  was 
water.  And  me  with  nothing  to 
drink  it  with! 

I  set  down  hard  on  the  box  and 
felt  as  blue  as  all  the  swear  words 
ever  swore.  There  was  nothing  in 
sight  to  eat,  and  that  made  me  so 
hungry  that  me  and  the  box  fell  over 
backward.  As  I  laid  there  sprawled 
out,  with  my  feet  up  on  the  box,  I 
looked  between  my  knees  and  read 
them  beautiful  words,  "  Eat  Buggins' 
14 


As   BLUE  AS  ALL  THE  SWEAR  WORDS 


EVER   SWORE 


Biscuit,"  in  plain  sight  before  me  on 
the  end  of  the  box. 

Well,  me  and  friend  Buggins  in 
habited  that  place — about  as  big  as 
one  of  Man  Friday's  footprints— for 
going  on  four  weeks.  When  tide 
was  in,  I  held  the  box  on  my  head 
to  keep  my  powder  dry.  'Long  to 
ward  the  end  of  my  visit,  just  before 
the  ship  that  saved  me  hove  in  sight, 
1  began  to  feel  a  mite  tired  of  that 
place.  I  kind  o'  felt  as  if  I'd  saw 
about  all  that  was  int' resting  on  that 
there  island.  I  thought  I  was  un 
happy  and  I  had  a  sneaking  idea  I 
was  lonesome.  But  I  see  I  was  mis 
taken.  I  hadn't  spent  a  Christmas 
night  alone  in  a  big  city  then. 
15 


Then  once  when  I  was  prospecting 
for  our  mine,  I  was  snowed  up  in  a 
pass.  I  reckon  I've  told  you  how  I 
got  typhoid  fever  and  wrestled  it  out 
all  day  by  my  lonesome  ;  unparal 
leled  thirst,  Boston  baked  brains,  red 
flannel  tongue,  delirium  dreamins, 
and  self-acting  emetic,  down  to  the 
final  blissful  "  Where  am  I  at  ?  "  and 
on  through  the  nice  long  convales 
cence  till  my  limbs  changed  from 
twine  strings  to  human  members. 
Six  weeks  doing  time  as  doctor, 
patient,  trained  nurse  and  fellow- 
Mason  all  in  one,  was  being  alone 
right  smart.  But  it  wasn't  a  patch 
on  the  little  metrolopis  of  Manhattan 

on  Santy  Glaus  day. 
16 


Then  once  I  had  a  rather  unrestf  ul 
evening  out  in  the  western  part  of 
Texas.  A  fellow  sold  me  a  horse 
right  cheap,  and  later  a  crowd  of  gen 
tlemen  accused  me  of  stealing  it,  and 
I  was  put  in  jail  with  a  promise  of 
being  lynched  before  breakfast. 
That  was  being  uncomfortable  some, 
too.  But  1  wished  last  night  that 
my  friend,  Judge  Watson,  hadn't 
come  along  that  night  and  identified 
me.  It  would  have  saved  me  from 
New  Yorkitis. 

Then  there  was  the  night  when  I 
proposed  for  your  hand  and  you  sent 
me  to  your  pa,  and  he  said  if  1  ever 
come  near  again  he'd  sic  the  dogs 
on  me.  I  spent  that  night  at  a  safe 
'7 


distance  from  the  dogs,  leaning  on  a 
fence,  and  not  noticing  it  was  barb 
wire  till  I  looked  at  my  clothes  and 
my  hide  next  day.  I  watched  your 
windows  till  the  light  went  out  and 
all  my  hope  with  it — and  on  after 
that  till,  as  the  poet  says,  till  daylight 
doth  appear. 

Then  there's  the  time  I  told  you 
about,  when— but  there's  no  use  of 
making  a  catalog  of  every  time  I've 
been  lonesome.  I  have  taken  my  pen 
in  hand  to  inform  you  that  last  night 
beat  everything  else  on  my  private  list 
of  troubles.  My  other  lonely  times 
was  when  1  was  alone,  but  the  lone- 
somest  of  all  was  in  the  heart  of  the 
biggest  crowd  on  this  here  continent. 

18 


HE  SAID  IF   I   EVER  COME  NEAR  AGAIN    HE^D   SIC   THE  DOGS   ON    ME 


There  was  people  a-plenty.  But  I 
didn't  know  one  gol-darned  galoot. 
I  had  plenty  of  money,  but  nobody 
to  spend  it  on — except  tiptakers.  I 
was  stopping  at  this  big  hotel  with 
lugsury  spread  over  everything, 
thicker  than  sorghum  on  corn  pone. 
But  lonely — why,  honey,  I  was  so 
lonely  that,  as  I  walked  along  the 
streets,  I  felt  as  if  I'd  like  to  break 
into  some  of  the  homes  and  compel 
'em  at  the  point  of  my  gun  to  let  me 
set  in  and  dine  with  'em. 

I  felt  like  asking  one  of  the  bell 
boys  to  take  me  home  and  get  his 
ma  to  give  me  a  slice  of  goose  and 
let  her  talk  to  me  about  her  folks. 

There  was  some  four  million  peo- 
19 


TOT 


pie  in  a  space  about  the  size  of  our 
ranch.  There  was  theatres  to  go  to 
—but  who  wants  to  go  to  the  theatre 
on  Christmas  ?—  it's  like  going  to 
church  on  the  Fourth  of  July.  There 
were  dime  muzhums,  penny  vawde- 
villes,  dance-halls. 

There  was  a  big  dinner  for  news 
boys.  The  Salvation  Army  and  the 
Volunteers  gave  feeds  to  the  poor. 
But  I  couldn't  qualify.  I  wasn't  poor. 
I  had  no  home,  no  friends,  no  noth 
ing. 

The  streets  got  deserteder  and  de- 
serteder.  A  few  other  wretches  was 
marooned  like  me  in  the  hotel  cor 
ridors.  We  looked  at  each  other 
like  sneak-thieves  patroling  the  same 


street.  Waiters  glanced  at  us  pitiful 
as  much  as  to  say,  "  If  it  wasn't  for 
shrimps  like  you,  I'd  be  home  with 
my  kids." 

The  worst  of  it  was,  I  knew  there 
were  thousands  of  people  in  town  in 
just  my  fix.  Perhaps  some  of  them 
were  old  friends  of  mine  that  I'd 
have  been  tickled  to  death  to  fore 
gather  with;  or  leastways,  people 
from  my  State.  Texas  is  a  big  place, 
but  we'd  have  been  brothers  and 
sisters — or  at  least  cousins  once  re 
moved — for  Christmas'  sake.  But 
they  were  scattered  around  at  the  St. 
Regis  or  the  Mills  Hotel,  the  Martha 
Washington  or  somewhere,  while  I 
was  at  the  Waldorf-hyphen-Astoria. 


21 


TOY: 


fUWQTMC 

hILDBEN 


T~7 


^-T/- 


It  was  like  the  two  men  that  Dick 
ens — I  believe  it  was  Dickens — tells 
about:  Somebody  gives  A  a  con 
certina,  but  he  can't  play  on  it; 
winter  coming  on  and  no  overcoat; 
he  can't  wear  the  concertina  any 
more  than  he  can  tootle  it.  A  few 
blocks  away  is  a  fellow,  Mr.  B.  He 
can  play  a  concertina  something 
grand,  but  he  hasn't  got  one  and  his 
fingers  itch.  He  spends  all  his  ready 
money  on  a  brand-new  overcoat, 
and  just  then  his  aunt  sends  him  an 
other  one.  He  thinks  he'll  just  swap 
one  of  them  overcoats  for  a  con 
certina.  So  he  advertises  in  an  ex 
change  column.  About  the  same 
time,  A  advertises  that  he'll  trade  one 


22 


i 


house-broken  concertina  for  a  nice 
overcoat.  But  does  either  A  or  B 
ever  see  B's  or  A's  advertisements  ? 
Not  on  your  beautiful  daguerreotype. 

That  was  the  way  with  us-all  in 
New  York.  The  town  was  full  of 
lonesome  strangers,  and  we  went 
moping  round,  stumbling  over  each 
other  and  not  daring  to  speak. 

They  call  us  "transients"  here. 
It's  like  a  common  sailor  that's  lost 
at  sea;  he's  only  a  "casualty." 
So  us  poor,  homeless  dogs  in  New 
York  are  only  transients.  Why,  do 
you  know,  I  was  that  lonely  I  could 
have  stood  out  in  the  square  like  a 
lonely  old  cow  in  the  rain,  and  just 
mooed  for  somebody  to  take  me  in. 


Ik, 


I'd  have  telegraphed  for  you  and 
the  childern  to  come  to  town,  but 
Texas  is  so  far  away,  and  you'd  have 
got  here  too  late,  and  you  couldn't 
come  anyway,  being  sick,  as  you 
wrote  me,  and  one  of  the  kids  hav 
ing  malary.  How  is  his  blessed  self 
to-day?  I  hope  you're  feeling  bet 
ter.  Telegraph  if  you  ain't,  and  I'll 
take  the  first  train  home. 

Well,  last  night  I  ate  a  horrible 
mockery  of  a  Christmas  dinner  in  a 
deserted  restaurant,  and  it  gave  me 
heartburn  (in  addition  to  heartache) 
and  a  whole  brood-stable  of  night 
mares.  I  went  to  bed  early,  and 
stayed  awake  late.  Gee!  that  was 

an  awful  night. 

24  


I  tried  Philosophy — the  next  station 
beyond  Despair.  I  said  to  myself, 
"You  old  fool,  why  in  the  name  of 
all  that's  sensible  should  you  feel  so 
excited  about  one  day  more  than  an 
other?"  I  wasn't  so  lonely  the  day 
before  Christmas,  I  ain't  so  lonely  to 
day,  but  then  I  was  like  a  small  boy 
with  the  mumps  and  the  earache  on 
the  Fourth  of  July.  The  firecrackers 
will  pop  just  as  lively  another  day, 
but— well,  the  universe  was  simply 
throwed  all  out  of  gear,  like  it  must 
have  been  when  Joshua  held  up  the 
moon— or  was  it  the  sun  ? 

You  remember  reading  me  once 
about — I  reckon  it  was  Mr.  Aldrich's 
pleasing  idea  of  the  last  man  on 
25 


at""1 


earth;  everybody  killed  off  by  a 
pestilence  or  something,  and  him 
setting  there  by  his  lonely  little  lone 
some;  and  what  would  he  have  done 
if  he  had  heard  his  door-bell  ring? 
Well,  I  reckon  he'd  have  done  what 
I'd  have  done  if  I'd  met  a  friend- 
given  one  wild  whoop,  wrapped  his 
arms  round  his  neck,  kissed  him  on 
both  cheeks,  and  died  with  a  faint 
gurgle  of  joy.  I'd  of  been  glad  to 
have  died  so,  too. 

Finally,  I  swore  that  if  I  ever  fore 
saw  myself  being  corralled  again  in  a 
strange  city  on  Christmas,  I'd  put  on 
a  sandwich  board  or  something  and 
march  up  and  down  the  streets  with 

a  sign  like  this: 

26 


I'm  lonely ! 
I'm  homesick  for  a  real 

Christmas  ! 
There  must  be  others. 

Let's  get  together! 
Meet  me  at  the  Fountain 

in  Union  Square ! 

We'll  hang  our  stockings  on  the  trees. 

Perhaps  some  snow  will  fall  in  'em. 

Come  one — Come  all ! 

Both  great  and  small ! 


I  bet  such  a  board  would  stir  up  a 
procession  of  exiles  a  mile  and  a  half 
long.  And  we'd  get  together  and 
have  a  good  crying  match  on  each 
other's  shoulders,  and  wring  each 
other's  hands,  while  the  band  played 
Old  Lang's  Sign. 

But    it's    over   now.    I've    lived 
27 


UloncU  . 

taiMMMUWwrf 
OV\VHo& 


through  the  game  of  Christmas  soli 
taire  in  a  big  city,  and  I  feel  as  re 
lieved  as  a  man  just  getting  out  of  a 
dentist's  office.  He's  minus  a  few 
molars,  and  aches  considerable,  but 
he's  full  of  a  pleasing  emptiness. 

But  let  me  say  right  here,  and  put 
it  in  black  and  white  :  If  I'm  ever 
dragged  away  from  home  again  on 
Christmas,  I'll  take  laughing-gas 
enough  for  a  day  and  two  nights,  or 
I'll  take  some  violent  steps  to  get 
company,  if  I  have  to  hire  a  cayuse 
and  a  lariat  and  rustle  Broadway, 
rounding  up  a  herd  of  other  un- 
branded  stray  cattle. 

Well,  this  is  a  long  letter  for  me, 

honey,  and  I  will  close.    Love  and 
28 


kisses  to  the  sweet  little  kids  and  to 
the  best  wife  a  fellow  ever  had. 
Your  loving 

AUSTIN. 

P.  S.  I  pulled  off  the  deal  all  right. 
The  syndicate  buys  the  mine.  I  get 
$500,000  in  cash  and  $500,000  in 
stock,  and  I  start  for  home  in  three 
days.  We'll  hang  up  our  stockings 
on  New  Year's  Day. 


HE  Fates  accepted  Colo 
nel  Crockett's  chal 
lenge,  and,  by  an  irre 
sistible  syndication  of 
events,  forced  him  to 
be  alone  in  New  York  again  the  very 
next  Christmas.  After  a  series  of 
masterly  financial  strokes,  he  had  felt 
rich  enough  in  his  two  millions  to 
spend  a  year  abroad  with  his  family. 
A  cablegram  called  him  to  America 
early  in  December,  to  a  directors' 
meeting.  Expecting  to  return  at 
once,  he  had  left  his  family  in  Italy. 
A  legal  complication  kept  him  post 
poning  his  trip  from  day  to  day  ;  and 
finally  an  important  hearing,  in  which 
he  was  a  valued  witness,  was  post- 
33 


M  0 


poned  by  the  referee — or  deferee — till 
after  the  holidays.  The  Colonel  saw 
himself  confronted  with  another 
Christmas  far  away  from  any  of  his 
people.  The  first  two  days  he  spent 
in  violent  profanity,  and  in  declining 
invitations  which  he  received  from 
business  acquaintances  to  share  their 
homes.  Then  he  set  out  to  make  the 
occasion  memorable.  Once  more  we 
may  leave  the  account  to  him. 


34 


LETTER 

<,      TWO 


New  York,  N.  Y.,  Dec.  28,  1905. 
FRIEND  WIFE  : 

Well,  I've  been  and  went  and  gone 
and  done  it !  And  golly,  but  it  was 
fun — barring  wishing  you  and  the 
little  ones  had  of  been  here,  too. 
Next  year  we'll  arrange  it  so,  for  I'm 
going  to  do  it  again.  You  remember 
Artemus  Ward's  man  who  "  had  been 
dead  three  weeks  and  liked  it." 
Well,  that's  me.  This  camping  out 
in  New  York  is  getting  to  be  a  habit. 
I'm  sending  you  a  bundle  of  news 
paper  clippings  as  big  as  a  stovepipe 
—all  about  Yours  Truly. 

As  soon  as  I  saw  that  circumstances 
had  organized  a  pool  to  corner  me 

and  my  Christmases,  I  spent  a  couple 
37 


V 


of  days  sending  up  rain-making  lan 
guage.  Then  I  settled  down  to  work 
like  a  bronco  does  to  harness  after 
kicking  off  the  dashboard  and  snap 
ping  a  couple  of  traces. 

"If  I've  got  to  be  alone  this  Christ 
mas,"  I  says  to  myself,  "  I'll  make  it 
the  gol-blamedest,  crowdedest  soli 
tude*  ever  heard  of  this  side  of  the 
River." 

I  looked  for  the  biggest  place  in 
town  under  one  roof.  Madison  Square 
Garden  was  /'/ .  You  remember  it. 
We  was  there  to  the  Horse  Show- 
so-called.  You  recollect,  I  reckon, 
that  the  Garden  holds  right  smart  of 
people.  At  a  political  meeting  once 
they  got  14,000  people  into  it,  and 


there  was  still  room  for  Grover  Cleve 
land  to  stand  and  make  a  speech. 

Well,  feeling  kind  o'  flush  and 
recklesslike,  I  decided  to  go  and  see 
the  manager,  or  janitor,  or  whatever 
he  is.  And  go  I  did.  I  says  to  him : 
"Could  I  rent  your  cute  little  shack 
for  one  evening — Christmas  night  ?" 

"  Certainly,  sir,"  he  says.  "  There 
happens  to  be  nothing  doing  this 
Christmas." 

"  How  much  would  it  set  me 
back?"  I  says  very  polite. 

"  Only  one  thousand  plunks,"  says 
he  smiling. 

"  But,  my  dear  Gaston,"  I  says 
with  a  low  bow,  "I  don't  want  to 
buy  your  little  Noah's  Ark  for  the 

39 


baby.  I  only  want  to  borrow  it  for 
one  evening." 

"One  thou.  is  our  bargain-counter 
limit,"  he  says.  "  1  couldn't  make  it 
less  for  the  poor  old  Czar  of  Rooshy." 

I  kind  o'  hesitated,  remembering 
the  time  when  a  thousand  dollars 
would  have  kept  me  comfortable  for 
about  three  years.  It's  hard  to  get 
over  the  habit  of  counting  your 
change.  Then  Mr.  Janitor,  seeing 
me  kind  o'  groggy,  says,  a  little  less 
polite: 

"If  that's  more  than  you  care  to 
pay  for  a  single  room  you  can  get  a 
cot  for  five  cents  on  the  Bowery ;  for 
a  quarter  you  can  get  a  whole  suite." 

That  riled  me.  I  flashed  a  wad  of 
40 


"ONLY  ONE  THOUSAND  PLUNKS/'  SAYS  HE 


bills  on  him  that  made  his  eyes  look 
like  two  automobile  lamps.  He  could 
see  it  wasn't  Confederate  money, 
either.  Then  I  shifted  my  cigar  to 
detract  attention  while  I  swallowed 
my  Adam's  apple,  and  I  says: 

"I  was  only  hesitating,  my  boy, 
because  I  wondered  if  your  nice 
young  Garden  would  be  big  enough. 
You  haven't  got  a  couple  more  to 
rent  at  the  same  price  ?  " 

He  wilted  and  caved  in  like  a  box 
of  ice  cream  does  just  before  you  get 
home  with  it.  Then  he  began  to 
bow  lower,  and  we  cut  for  a  new 
deal.  He  took  the  lead. 

He  says  what  might  I  be  wanting 
to  use  the  Garden  for  ? 


c 


"  Oh,  I  won't  bulge  the  walls  or 
strain  the  floor,"  I  says.  "I  only 
want  it  for  a  Christmas  tree.  I  am 
going  to  invite  my  friends  to  a  little 
party." 

"  Whew,  but  you  must  be  popu 
lar!  "  he  says.  "Who  the  dickens 
are  you  ?  Brother  Teddy,  or  Mother 
Eddy?" 

"I'm  Colonel  D.  Austin  Crockett, 
of  Waco,"  I  says  as  meek  as  I  could. 

"  Pleased  to  meet  you,  Colonel," 
he  says.  "  What  you  running  for? 
— District  Attorney  ?  Or  are  you 
starting  a  new  Mutual  Benefit  Life 
Assassination  ?" 

"  Neither,"  I  says;  "  I'm  a  stranger 

in  New  York." 

42 


"  But  these  friends  of  yours  ?"  he 
gasped.  "Is  all  Waco  coming  up 
here  on  an  excursion  ?  Is  the  town 
going  to  move  bodily  ?  " 

"Mr.  Prosecutor,"  I  says,  "if 
you'll  stop  cross-examining  a  min 
ute,  and  let  me  tell  how  it  all  hap 
pened,  it  will  save  right  smart  of 
time.  I  am  a  stranger  here  to 
about  four  million  people.  They  are 
strangers  to  me.  We  ought  to  know 
each  other.  So  I'm  going  to  give  a 
little  Madison  Square  Garden  warm 
ing  and  invite  'em  in." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  sell  'em 
— prize  poultry,  or  physical  culture  ?" 

"  I've  nothing  to  sell.     I'm  just  go 
ing  to  entertain  'em." 
43 


/; 


'*-* 


"  Well,  I've  heard  of  Southern  hos 
pitality,"  he  says,  "but  this  beats 
me.  How  much  you  going  to  charge 
a  head  ?  " 

"Nothing.  Everything  is  to  be 
free.  Admission  included." 

"Not  on  your  dear  old  Lost 
Cause  1"  he  exclaims.  "Leastways 
not  in  our  little  doll's  house.  Not  for 
ten  thousand  dollars!  Why,  man, 
do  you  realize  that  if  you  offered 
these  New  York,  Brooklyn,  Bronx, 
Hackensack  and  Hoboken  folks  a 
free  show,  more'n  two  thousand 
women  would  get  trampled  to 
death  ?  Did  you  ever  see  a  bargain- 
crowd  on  Twenty-third 
Well,  that's  only  for  a 

44 


chance  to  get  something  they  don't 
want  at  a  fishbait  price.  But  if  you 
offered  them  a  free,  *  take-one' 
chance— holy  keewhizl— I  can  just 
see  it  now!  The  Garden  ain't  half 
big  enough  in  the  first  place. 
There's  enough  Take-One'ers  in 
these  parts  to  fill  the  old  Coliseum. 
And  they'd  make  the  wild  animals 
look  like  a  cage  of  rabbits  or  white 
mice." 

Well,  the  upshot  of  it  was,  he  per 
suaded  me  to  charge  an  admission; 
so  we  set  it  at  $1.00  a  head  "  on  the 
hoof."  I  wrote  out  a  card  and  sent 
it  to  all  the  papers  to  print  at  adver 
tising  rates.  It  cost  right  smart,  but 
it  looked  neat: 

45 


y  o 


TO  EVERY  STRANGER  IN  NEW 
YORK,  AND  HIS  LADY 

If  you  are  not  otherwise  engaged  on 
Christmas  night,  the  honor  of  your  presence 
at  Madison  Square  Garden  is  requested  by 
DAVID  AUSTIN  CROCKETT 

Colonel  Fifth  Texas  Cavalry,  C.  S.  A. 

Music,  Dancing,  Refreshments,  Souve 
nirs.  For  the  purpose  of  keeping  out  the 
undesirable  element  a  charge  of  $1.00  will 
be  made. 

I  knew  that  them  magic  words, 
"Refreshments"  and  "Souvenirs," 
would  hit  'em  hard.  In  order  to 
whet  the  public  interest,  I  asked  the 
papers  where  I  advertised  to  give  the 
thing  some  editorial  or  other  refer 
ence.  But  they  was  very  cold  and 
said  the  best  they  could  do  was  to 

send  their  dramatic  critics  to  criticise 

"  46 


the  show  afterward.  A  lot  of  good 
that  would  do  me!  So  I  took  more 
space  in  advertising. 

In  a  day  or  two  I  was  visited  at  the 
hotel  by  one  of  the  most  imperent 
young  fellows  I  ever  met  up  with. 
He  sent  up  a  card,  "  James  J.  James, 
Publicity  Expert."  I  said  to  show 
him  in,  and  he  sort  of  oozed  through 
the  door — he  was  that  oily.  He 
looked  about  to  see  if  we  was  alone; 
then  winked  slow  and  important, 
and  says: 

"  What's  your  game,  Colonel  ?  It 
looks  pretty  slick,  but  I  can't  quite 
make  it  out.  It's  a  new  bunco,  all 
right,  but  slick  as  it  looks,  it  ain't 
quite  so  slick  as  it  ought  to  be." 
47 


"Look  here,  you  cub,"  I  roared, 
"if  you  imply  that  I  have  any  evil 
motives  in  this,  I'll  shoot  you  so  full 
of  holes  you'll  look  like  a  mosquito 
net!" 

He  wasn't  a  bit  scared;  he  simply 
winked  the  other  eye,  and  said  in  a 
kind  of  foreign-sounding  language: 

"Forget  it,  Colonel!  Cut  it  out! 
Back  to  the  alfalfa  with  your  Buffalo 
Bill  vocabulary!  If  you  are  really  on 
the  level,  you  don't  need  to  prove  it 
with  artillery.  But  it  makes  no  diff. 
to  me  about  that.  My  business  is 
producing  fame,  not  merit.  Once 
more  I  ask,  what's  your  lay  ?" 

I  overcame  a  desire  to  kick  him 

through  the  ceiling,  and  told  him  I 
48 


JAMES  J.  JAMES,   PUBLICITY  EXPERT 


proposed  to  entertain  the  strangers  in 
New  York. 

"  Strangers  in  New  York  ?— Why, 
that  means  everybody!  There's 
been  only  one  man  born  in  New 
York  since  the  war,  and  he's  kept  in 
alcohol  at  a  dime  muzhum.  Your 
idea  is  really  to  give  old  New  York  a 
Christmas  party,  eh  ?  Very  pretty ! 
Very  pretty,  indeed!  But  if  you  in 
sist  on  exploding  money  all  over  the 
place,  I  don't  see  why  you  shouldn't 
get  a  run  for  it.  Besides,  I  need  a 
bit  of  it  myself.  What  you  want  is 
a  press  agent.  You're  starting  all 
wrong.  People  in  New  York  can't 
understand  or  believe  anything  ex 
cept  through  the  language  of  the 
49 


*SS£3!h 


cou 


IP*1 

« 


m 


'/££$ 


press  agent.  You  take  one  on  your 
staff,  and  in  three  days  you'll  be  so 
famous  that,  if  a  child  in  a  kinder 
garten  is  asked  who  is  the  Queen  of 
Holland,  it  will  answer:  'Colonel 
Crockett,  of  Waco.' " 

Well,  he  poured  out  the  most  re 
markable  string  of  talk  I  ever  heard, 
and  before  I  knew  it  he  had  made  me 
promise  to  trust  my  soul  and  my 
scheme  to  him  ;  to  be  surprised  at 
nothing  that  might  appear  in  the 
papers,  and  to  refer  all  reporters  to 
him.  The  next  morning  I  found  my 
name  on  the  front  page  of  every 
journal,  with  my  picture  in  most  of 
them.  It  seems  I  had  held  at  bay 
two  hundred  angry  Italians  who 
50 


DIAMON 


R 


were  trying  to  mob  a  Chinese  laundry- 
man.  The  evening  papers  said  that 
I  had  stopped  a  runaway  coach-and- 
four  on  Fifth  Avenue,  that  morning, 
by  lassoing  the  leader.  On  the  coach 
were  Mrs.  Aster,  Mrs.  Fitch,  Reggie 
Vanderbuilt,  George  Goold,  Harry 
Leer  and  a  passel  of  other  "  Among 
those  presents."  That  night  I  went 
to  a  music-hall— according  to  the 
next  morning's  papers — and  broke 
up  the  show  by  throwing  a  pocketful 
of  solitaires  to  the  chorus  girls.  The 
next  day  three  burglars  got  into  my 
room  ;  I  held  them  up  in  a  corner, 
took  away  their  masks,  spanked 
them,  and  gave  them  each  a  hundred- 
dollar  bill  to  help  them  to  avoid 
51 


w 


DIAMONDS ' 

CHORUS 


temptation.  That  afternoon  the  three 
big  life-insurance  companies  asked 
me  to  be  president.  And  so  on— 
you  can  read  for  yourself  in  the  clip 
pings — only  for  Heaven's  sake  don't 
believe  any  of  it.  In  every  article 
was  a  neat  allusion  to  my  Christmas 
party. 

I  wanted  to  kill  James  J.  James, 
and  I  scoured  the  town  for  him,  but 
he  dodged  me.  He  kept  his  word, 
though.  For  the  last  few  days  I've 
been  the  most  talked-of  man  in 
town.  Looks  like  I'd  been  the  Only 
man  in  New  York. 

And  now  to  tell  about  my  little 
party.  For  two  days  a  regiment  of 
men  was  working  in  the  Garden  un- 
52 


der  my  direction — and  at  my  expense. 
It  was  like  paying  the  war  appropria 
tion  of  Russia.  But  it  was  worth  it. 

At  six  o'clock  Christmas  night  the 
crowd  began  to  line  up  at  the  Garden 
doors.  At  6:}o  a  platoon  of  police 
arrived.  At  6:40  the  line  reached 
twice  around  the  Garden.  At  6 145 
they  sent  for  more  police.  At  7:1 5 
every  street  was  solid  with  people. 
They  called  out  the  police  reserves 
and  clubbed  about  four  hundred  in 
nocent  bystanders  insensible.  At 
7:45  the  fire  department  was  called 
and  played  the  hose  on  the  crowd. 

This  thinned  'em  off  a  bit  on  the 
outsquirts.  Then  the  ambulances 
give  out  and  the  fainting  women  was 
53 


carried  home  in  express  wagons  and 
wheelbarrows.  The  subway  was 
the  only  line  tKat  could  run  cars. 

At  8:30  the  doors  opened.  You 
should  of  seen  the  rush.  The  Gal- 
veston  flood  wasn't  in  it.  At  8:45 
the  Garden  was  so  full  they  closed 
the  doors.  That  sent  some  of  the 
outside  crowd  home. 

The  Garden  was  a  beautiful  sight. 
On  the  tower  outside,  in  big  electric 
letters,  there  was  a  sign,  "  Merry 
Christmas  to  you  and  yours." 

Inside  it  was  decorated  with  holly 
leaves  and  berries — tons  and  tons  of 
it.  At  one  end  was  built  a  big  house 
with  a  chimbly  and  an  old-fashioned 

fireplace.      The  roof   of  the  house 
54 


I 


VI 


was  covered  with  snow  (cotton), 
and  the  sky  back  of  it  was  full  of 
electric  stars  that  twinkled  something 
beautiful.  And  there  was  a  moon  that 
looked  like  the  real  thing. 

There  was  four  bands  in  the  bal 
conies  and  a  chorus  of  angels  with 
real  wings  and  electric  halos.  They 
sang  "  Peace  on  Earth,  Good  Will  to 
Men,"  written  for  the  occasion  by 
Mr.  De  Koven. 

By  and  by  all  the  bands  bust  out 
gorgeous,  and  then  Santy  Glaus  ap 
peared  in  a  sleigh  drawed  by  six  real 
live  stuffed  reindeers.  He  run  along 
the  sky  on  unseen  grooves  and  drove 
up  to  the  roof  of  the  house,  and  slid 
down  the  chimbly  with  a  pack  of 
55 


V 


presents.  He  filled  all  the  stockings 
with  candy  cornycopies  and  toys, 
and  a  lot  of  attendants  passed  'em 
out  to  the  childern.  You  should  of 
heard  them  squeal  with  joy — poor 
little  tots,  living  in  hotels  and  apart 
ment  places  where  Santy  Glaus 
would  of  had  to  come  up  the  steam 
radiator  or  the  gas-log  pipe  to  get  in. 
Well,  my  Santy  Glaus  had  to  make 
sixteen  trips  to  satisfy  the  childern. 

The  Garden  was  divided  into  sec 
tions,  one  for  every  State  and  Terri 
tory,  with  its  own  shield  in  electric 
lights  and  colors.  There  was  a  native 
of  every  State  in  charge,  and  every 
State  had  its  own  big  Christmas  tree, 
and  reception-room  and  refresh- 
56 


merits.  Some  of  the  people  I  noticed 
seemed  to  of  been  born  in  several 
States  at  once,  the  way  they  passed 
from  one  booth  to  another  fillin'  up 
their  pockets  and  stummicks.  1 
reckon  they  paid  for  it  the  next  day 
in  doctors'  bills. 

But  there  was  nary  a  sign  of  row 
dyism.  That  dollar  admission  was  a 
regular  sieve  for  straining  out  the 
toughs.  Then  there  were  policemen 
everywhere,  and  every  other  man 
nearly  was  a  plain-clothes  man  or  a 
detective.  Besides,  after  sober  con 
sideration,  and  on  advice  from  the 
Gardeners,  I  cut  out  all  drinks,  except 
soft  stuff.  So  there  were  no  jags, 
except  what  some  people  brought 
57 


it 


wilh  them  from  their  Christmas  din 
ners  and  loaded  plum  puddings. 

And  then,  of  course,  that  peculiar 
something  we  get  into  us  at  Christ 
mas  time  filled  everybody  with  a  sort 
of  loving  fellowship  and  a  hanker 
ing  to  hug  their  neighbors  and 
divvy  up  their  funds  like  a  Mutual 
Life  Insurance  Company  prospectus 
says  it's  a-going  to  do  some  day. 

In  the  centre  of  the  hall  there  was 
a  big  sign  in  electric  letters: 

EVERYBODY  IS  HEREBY  IN 
TRODUCED  TO  EVERYBODY 
ELSE— FOR  TO-NIGHT  ONLY 

At  every  State  booth  you'd  see 
people  gathering  and  recognizing  old 
friends  or  introducing  theirselves  to 
58 


new  ones.  It  was  surprising  how 
each"  State  had  its  gathering. 

At  the  Texas  booth  there  was  a  big, 
immense  crowd.  A  lot  of  them 
turned  out  to  be  old  friends  of  ours; 
school  friends  of  yours,  ranch  friends 
of  mine,  people  I  had  worked  for, 
people  who  had  worked  me — or  for 
me.  A  lot  of  them  sent  their  love 
and  a  Merry  Christmas  to  you.  I  re 
member  especially [Here  we 

omit  a  list  of  names,  somewhat  lack 
ing  in  universal  interest.] 

I  had  advertised  that  people  who 
wanted  to  give  each  other  Christmas 
presents  could  have  them  hung  on 
the  State  trees.  My  attendants  gave 
them  checks  for  their  gifts  and  there 
59 


wasn't  many  mix-ups.  Old  Miss 
Samanthy  Clay  got  a  box  of  cigars 
meant  for  Judge  Randolph,  and  he 
got  a  pair  of  silver-buckle  garters 
meant  for  her.  But  most  of  them 
come  out  right,  and  several  of  them 
was  so  surprised  at  getting  presents 
in  New  York  that  they  bust  out  cry 
ing.  Major  Calhoun's  whiskers  was 
soaking  wet  with  tears  when  he  got 
a  bottle  of  old  Bourbon  from  Judge 
Payton. 

Rich  folks  who  had  been  poor  men 
met  charter-members  of  the  "I'm  on 
to  your  origin  "  association.  But  the 
Christmas  spirit  made  them  forget  to 
be  snobs.  You'd  hear  millionaires 
telling  plain  people  how  they  used  to 
60 


OLD  Miss  SAMANTHY  CLAY  GOT  A  BOX  OF  CIGARS  MEANT  FOR 
JUDGE  RANDOLPH 


play  Hallowe'en  jokes,  how  they 
scraped  up  to  buy  their  mothers  lit 
tle  Christmas  gifts — what  ridiculous 
things  they  used  to  get  and  give! 

All  evening  as  fast  as  anybody 
went  out  they'd  let  somebody  else  in. 
Along  about  eleven  o'clock  a  lot  of 
the  people  began  to  go  home. 
Then  a  new  crowd  come  in.  People 
who  had  taken  their  childern  home 
and  put  them  to  bed  would  come 
back  for  more  fun.  Others,  who 
had  spent  the  evening  dining,  began 
to  dribble  in. 

All  the  actor-people  and  singers 
came.  It  was  good  to  see  them. 
Some  of  them  told  me  what  a  god 
send  such  a  thing  was  to  them, 
61 


v 


homeless  by  profession.  A  lot  of 
them  brought  their  wives  and  babies. 
One  father  was  playing  Romeo  in 
Newark,  his  wife  was  playing  Little 
Eva  in  Harlem,  and  their  daughter 
was  playing  Camille  on  Broadway. 
You  should  of  seen  them  rejoicing 
round  the  Kansas  tree! 

About  midnight  the  big  refresh 
ment  hall  was  opened  and  everybody 
that  could  squeeze  in  set  down  to 
long  tables  where  I  had  supper 
served.  I  had  some  of  the  best 
after-dinner  speakers  in  town  come 
in,  and  you  should  of  heard  some  of 
the  funny  stories — it  would  of 
brought  back  dear  old  childhood 

memories.     Mayor    McClellan    gave 
62 


U 


us  all  a  welcome,  and  then  there  was 
Chauncey  Depew,  of  course,  and 
Simeon  Ford,  and  Augustus  Thomas, 
and  Wilton  Lackaye,  and  Job  Hedges, 
and  Lemuel  Ely  Quigg,  and  General 
Horace  Porter,  and  a  passel  of  others. 
They  all  made  the  most  surprising 
allusions  to  your  poor  old  husband. 
They  called  me  Daddy  and  sang 
about  me  being  a  jolly  good  fellow. 
And  one  of  them  christened  me 
"Santy  Crockett."  Why,  my  ears 
burned  so  hot  I  near  set  my  collar  on 
fire!  It  sure  was  worth  all  I  spent, 
and  I  had  a  terrible  time  to  keep 
from  blubbering.  I  must  of  swal 
lowed  about  four  hundred  and  eleven 

Adam's  apples. 

63 


QR1NGTHE 

HIUOREN 


i    r~i 


Finally  they  called  on  me  for  a 
speech.  I  just  kind  o'  gibbered— 1 
don't  know  what.  The  papers  say  I 
said:  "Merry  Christmas,  my  chil- 
dern!  This  old  world  sure  is  some 
comfortable,  after  all.  The  only 
trouble  is  that  the  right  people  can't 
seem  to  get  together  at  the  right 
time  often  enough.  But  this  here 
Christmas  supper  tastes  to  me  terri 
ble  much  like  More.  I'm  going  to 
try  it  again.  And  I  hereby  invite  you 
all  that  ain't  in  any  better  place  or 
any  better  world  to  meet  me  here  a 
year  from  to-night.  And  so  God 
bless  you  all,  and — and  God  bless 
everybody!" 

Then  after  a  lot  of  song-singing 


and  hand-wringing  we  all  went 
home,  tears  in  every  eye  and  smiles 
on  every  mouth.  The  remnants  of 
food  and  toys  made  more  than  the 
twelve  baskets  full  of  Scripture.  I 
sent  them  round  to  the  Hospitals  and 
Orphant  Asylums.  I've  engaged  the 
Garden  again  for  next  Christmas  and 
paid  a  deposit  down.  It  ain't  the 
extravagance  it  looks,  either,  for 
while  the  expenses  was  high — 
twelve  thousand-odd  dollars— they 
took  in  at  the  door  nearly  eighteen 
thousand  dollars.  I  sent  the  profit  to 
the  Salvation  Army  and  the  Volun 
teers,  and  now  I'm  being  prayed 
for  and  hallelooyied  for  everywhere 
there's  a  bass  drum.  But  I'd  do  it 
65 


fh 


,T(OfifS 


emits  THE 
H1LDREN 


YOlUNTHItfOfA/1 

SU)*iW 
911  MSECON1 


again  if  it  cost  me  twenty  thousand. 
It's  worth  that  and  more  to  have 
your  heart  nearly  break  wide  open 
with  joy  and  fellowship. 

It  was  broad  daylight  when  I  got 
to  bed,  all  wore  out  with  happiness. 
I  cuddled  up,  like  I  was  a  little  boy 
once  more  in  the  days  when  I  used 
to  get  up  Christmas  morning,  cold 
and  early,  and  look  at  my  presents 
and  then  crawl  back  under  the  covers 
again  with  a  double  armful  of  toys, 
to  keep  warm  and  sleep  some  more. 

If  only  you  and  the  chicks  had  of 
been  there  !    Next  time  you  shall  be. 
Your  loving 

AUSTIN. 

66 


W 


M1832O1 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


..« 


